


Returning To Skyhold

by FreeTheMages



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Dom/sub, Gay, Gay Sex, M/M, M/M/M, Multi, OT3, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Punishment, Spanking, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, Triad - Freeform, War Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:21:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22681654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreeTheMages/pseuds/FreeTheMages
Summary: Inquisitor Trevelyan has been away on a mission for a while, and is happy to be back at Skyhold.A certain Commander and a visiting King are only too happy to welcome him back, once they deal with a simple matter of some misbehaviour, that is.
Relationships: Alistair/Cullen Rutherford, Alistair/Male Trevelyan, Cullen Rutherford/Alistair/Male Trevelyan, Cullen Rutherford/Male Trevelyan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 62





	Returning To Skyhold

**Author's Note:**

> Phew! I’ve been writing this for so long, I’m so happy to finally post it! 
> 
> This is very spicy, with themes of domination and submission, so be warned!

The inquisitor had not long been back in Skyhold. It had been a rather tiresome journey back from Redcliffe, and they had slain enough bears on the way to outfit most of Skyhold for the bitterest of winters. Why the creatures insisted on always spoiling for a fight, Trevelyan would never understand. Still, he was back now. Hopefully for at least a couple of weeks. 

After taking care of his personal reports and handing them to one of Leliana’s people, he headed off to bed. It was too late to disturb anybody with greetings- they could wait until the morning. 

______

It was difficult for Trevelyan to get out of bed the next morning. Despite the good night’s sleep he had managed, he found the plush, cosy embrace of a real bed too pleasant to leave so eagerly, after having slept in a tent for the past month. 

‘Well, duty calls, I suppose’ he sighed to himself as he sat up and stretched his arms. 

It didn’t take him long to be dressed and ready for the day; he was down the stairs and out of his private quarters within just twenty minutes. 

A brief visit to the war room was necessary, but afterwards he found himself somewhat free to spend time as he liked; something that rarely happened and was to be treasured. 

Much of the day passed without incident. Well, except for a pair of Dorian’s underthings being raised upon a flagpole. But that hardly mattered. Dorian was sure to get his revenge upon a certain mischievous elf, and so Trevelyan saw no need to reprimand Sera. Especially when it was so very funny. 

Once again the sun set upon the fortress so fortuitously found in their time of great need. Trevelyan found himself wandering back from the tavern, rather in his own world. Today had been a good day. 

Reaching the top of the steps and entering the door to the just slightly warmer main hall of Skyhold proper, a smile spread across Treveylan’s face as he found the two fair-haired men deep in conversation. He hadn’t had much of a chance to speak to the Commander, or indeed the visiting King of Ferelden, since getting back. He had missed them both. 

He approached slowly, not wanting to interrupt what seemed to be an eager exchanging of words. When both men noticed him, they quietened and turned to face the Inquisitor with similarly dashing smiles. Trevelyan blushed, but if either man noticed, they did not say anything. 

‘Inquisitor! Wonderful to see you!’ King Alistair beamed, reaching out to grasp the slightly younger man’s hand. The Inquisitor accepted it, and the pair shook. It was the gesture of two who had long been friends.

‘Your Majesty.’ He returned, a soft smirk on his face. 

‘Commander Cullen here tells me that you’ve been cavorting about the countryside this past month. Have you any news? Or was this not a visit of business, but pleasure?’ 

The sparkle in Alistair’s golden eyes did not go unnoticed by Trevelyan, who chuckled at the familiar tease. 

‘And what of you? Not enough to do back in Denerim?’ He retorted. ‘I dare say Eamon will be having kittens if you keep away much longer!’ 

Alistair made a gesture as if he were wounded at the accusation. ‘Now, now, that’s the King’s business. Besides, I’ll have you know that I’m really rather busy here! All sorts of... kingly activities. You wouldn’t understand.’ It was a friendly banter that always felt comfortable and easy to fall back into. 

Commander Cullen’s gentle cough turned their attention to him. 

‘Yes, well, it’s good to see you Inquisitor. The King and I were just discussing the correspondence you sent here five days ago.’ 

Trevelyan raised an eyebrow as Alistair crossed his arms and looked him up and down with a slight smirk. Cullen seemed to be similarly appraising him. Cullen’s was a look that could give anyone pause. Suddenly he felt vulnerable under their gaze. 

‘I- I’m not sure what you mean.’ He stammered, a gentle flush filling his cheeks. He knew exactly what they meant. 

‘Oh, I think you do.’ Cullen took the tiniest step towards Trevelyan and the man swallowed thickly in response. ‘I think you may have been drinking on the job.’ 

Alistair tutted at this, clearly enjoying the squirming that Cullen had elicited in the mage. 

‘Whatever shall we do? Such behaviour is not becoming of the leader of the Inquisition. I think you should perhaps explain yourself, dear Inquisitor.’ The king’s eyes sparkled with mischief. 

‘I... it was merely a night in Redcliffe tavern, once we were done for the day.’ Trevelyan stammered, heat pulsating up his neck and rising to his already flushed cheeks. Both men had moved very slightly closer and Trevelyan stepped back reflexively.  
  
Trevelyan, in the midst of a session of drunken pining in Redcliffe five days ago, had penned a rather saucy letter and sent it along with the notes for the Commander in the early hours of the morning by raven. By the time he had sobered enough to realise what he had actually done, the bird had been long gone. 

Watching the Inquisitor struggle for words was one of Cullen’s favourite past times, especially when he was the cause of said tongue ties. He decided to press further. 

‘Well, I must say I was intrigued at the _reports_ you provided. There must have been a lot for you to think about, hm?’ 

If Trevelyan had been blushing before, he now resembled a tomato in pallor. 

‘If I recall correctly, you seemed to be concerned that your _weapons_ were not sufficient for your mission. That you needed another _sword, or two_ at your disposal… It is of utmost importance that you are adequately outfitted and armed, Inquisitor. Perhaps we ought to raise this issue with the smithy.’ Cullen chose carefully which words to stress for maximum effect, and turned to Alistair as he chimed in.

‘I couldn’t agree more, Commander. We must take care to properly arm ourselves in any situation… Are you quite alright, Inquisitor? Your face has become very red. Do you need something?’ 

Trevelyan just stared, entirely unsure how to proceed. His mouth was open as if to speak, but nothing came out, prompting Cullen to chuckle darkly. ‘I think I know what he needs, Your Majesty… Let us go to the war room, for some privacy to take care of our dear Inquisitor. Come,’ he gestured, allowing Alistair to move towards the door first, and then placed a firm hand on Trevelyan’s left shoulder. 

It took little effort on Cullen’s part to guide the Inquisitor towards the door and through Josephine’s empty study. Trevelyan thanked the Maker that the Ambassador had already retired for the evening. 

As the three of them walked, the blonds made idle conversation, speaking as if Trevelyan wasn’t there. He had no idea what was going on, but whatever it was, it caused something to stir in his smalls.

Once inside the war room with the door closed behind them, both Cullen and Alistair rounded on Trevelyan, who backed up until his ass was pressed against the table.

‘Now,’ Alistair started, and Cullen crossed his arms, his face full of intrigue as he kept his eyes on the Inquisitor and allowed the King to speak. 

‘I think you have been naughty, Inquisitor. And what’s more, I think you know it.’ He took a small step forwards; no airs of personal space were fabricated here. ‘That blush on your face gives me an inkling, but I have to wonder, just how far down does it go?’ 

At this, Trevelyan swallowed hard. Alistair’s amber eyes betrayed his intentions as he gazed deeply into the Inquisitor’s blue-grey ones.

‘What do you think, Commander? Should we check?’ 

‘I believe so. Would you do the honours?’ Cullen tilted his head and watched as the King of Ferelden first unbuttoned Trevelyan’s vest, and pulled it away. Trevelyan made no effort to resist; he simply watched Alistair’s large but deft hands work with a practiced ease that gave away his lack of a typical royal upbringing. Next was the lacing that kept the upper part of his shirt closed. Slowly, he peeled the shirt open, revealing a smooth, pink blush radiating downwards from the Inquisitor’s neck. 

‘Oh my...’ Alistair smirked, his fingers gently grazing the warm skin behind Trevelyan’s shirt as he pulled it further open. The mage’s breath caught in his throat and a small shudder rippled from the centre of his chest where cool fingers had ghosted, tickling the smattering of chest hair there. 

Alistair paused and once again looked deep into the other man’s eyes. ‘So far, the evidence is damning.’ 

‘I quite agree.’ Trevelyan started at the sound of Cullen’s voice as he interjected with a tut. He had almost forgotten he was there. The man came closer and Alistair moved slightly to the side to allow them both to stand in tantalisingly close proximity to their charge.

_Maker’s breath, what are they going to do to me?_

Lord Inquisitor Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste- a pillar of strength for so many; yet here he was, a wilting rose under the thumbs of a former Knight-Captain, and the King of Ferelden. The gossip alone… well, none of that mattered right at this moment. Trevelyan sucked in a painfully shallow breath as Cullen reached forward and removed his shirt entirely over his head.

‘Much better. Now we can investigate much more thoroughly.’ Cullen mused, and the deepening pink flush continued to spread further below the Inquisitor’s navel. Gently, he stroked back stray hairs from Trevelyan’s ever so slightly damp forehead. He loved how easily worked up the mage was. Many years ago, such a thought would have elicited a very different sort of passion. He nearly blanched at the intrusive thought, but neither of the men in his company seemed to notice. 

Alistair traced Trevelyan’s waist and watched with wonder as the flush chased his path. 

‘It is as I thought,’ Alistair smirked without raising his head. ‘Trevelyan, your blush has reached your smalls.’ He followed the waistband of Trevelyan’s breeches and smallclothes with a single finger, threatening to push just slightly below the lacing which tied them shut. The Inquisitor shivered, a gentle whimper catching in his throat as his cock jumped visibly beneath his clothes. 

‘My, my! Commander, I do believe this naughty mage has smuggled in his staff! That, or he is very pleased to see us!’ Alistair exhaled with mock surprise. 

Cullen chuckled in response. ‘Why, I do believe you are right, Your Majesty!’ Trevelyan bit his lip, though whether it was with embarrassment or sheer lust, he couldn’t tell. 

After removing his gloves while the Inquisitor watched, and placing them on the table, Cullen began to unlace Trevelyan’s breeches agonisingly slowly, as Alistair extracted a whimper from the mage’s throat by gently flicking his left nipple. The king snickered deeply, observing the way the handsome man bit his lip, evidently trying and failing to conceal just how much he was enjoying the attention.

Trevelyan felt a hard tug as his breeches were pulled down, though his boots remained on his feet. His smallclothes followed a moment later. He covered his eyes in embarrassment as it was revealed just how _excited_ he had gotten already. 

Cullen openly groaned at the sight of Trevelyan’s turgid member. He trailed just one finger up the underside of the pleasantly sized cock, causing it to jump from him, and chuckled. 

‘Goodness, you are excited, aren’t you? I suppose it can only be expected from naughty boys.’ He chastised. 

‘Please’ was all the Inquisitor could say. Alistair raised an eyebrow before turning to Cullen with a devious smile, and nodding. 

‘Hm,’ Cullen mused, stroking his chin in mock contemplation. ‘I cannot be certain, but I think Inquisitor Trevelyan is asking for _more_ attention down here,’ he lightly grasped the whole of the man’s groin to emphasise his point. Trevelyan simply whimpered, and with a smirk, Cullen lowered himself enough to brush his tongue over the sensitive head of the Inquisitor’s cock.

The mage instantly brought his legs together as a sudden surge of pleasure rippled through him. Maker, he needed more. Cullen was quick to place his hands on either thigh and force the legs to remain apart as he wedged his shoulders in the best position between them. Then he got to work.

He took Trevelyan’s dick -already oozing precum- into his mouth, and made a low groaning noise to stimulate the head. He felt it grow harder still against his tongue, taking it deeper, but not quite into his throat. Then he retreated, planting a kiss on the tip before taking it in again. The Inquisitor’s legs shuddered around the Commander’s shoulders, the fur tickling his inner thighs as the man worked on his cock. 

Alistair watched, enjoying the show. He periodically resumed teasing around Trevelyan’s nipples as Cullen worked on his ‘staff’. 

‘You know, I always thought that mages were plenty good at controlling themselves, without Chantry involvement,’ he mused, languidly drawing a circle around the Inquisitor’s left areola. ’But I have to say, dear Inquisitor, that presently you are not quite a picture of self restraint.’ he laughed, mostly to himself. Trevelyan shot him a mock glower before throwing his head back at a sudden forceful suck from the man between his legs, his hands grasping Cullen’s blond curls. It was true, he couldn’t have stopped what was happening if he wanted to; he was putty in their hands, and they all knew it. 

Cullen backed up and stood up straight again, smiling wickedly as Trevelyan’s eyebrows knitted with need at the sudden absence of stimulation. For a moment, he simply stood there and considered, regarding the mess of a man in front of him. Then he turned his head to Alistair. 

‘What should happen next do you think, your majesty? There must be serious consequences, after all.’ 

Alistair picked up on what Cullen was suggesting, and when Trevelyan narrowed his eyes, still panting, he laughed openly and spoke aloud. ‘No need to look at me like that, Inquisitor, you only have yourself to blame for what is coming. Right. Turn around and bend over the desk, if you please.’ he said as he pushed his sleeves up from his wrists. Trevelyan didn’t move. 

‘That was not a request, Trevelyan. I’d think by now you’d want to prove yourself to be a good mage.’ Alistair demanded, with much less humour than the mage ever expected from the usually goofy man. Perhaps being King had grown on him a little more than he would admit in the company of anybody else. Though the telltale curl of his lip indicated there was no real danger, Trevelyan swallowed and followed the King’s instructions, resting most of his weight on his lower arms. His arse had already cleared the area in and around the Korcari Wilds of strategy markers. _That will be fun to have to sort out later,_ he absently thought, briefly distracted until he felt a cool hand stroke his right, then his left arse cheek, and another resting on his right hip. Alistair’s, presumably.

_Smack_

Trevelyan let out a small yelp as a hand came down hard on his behind, stinging.

Alistair rubbed where his hand had connected gently before landing another, harder slap in the same place. Trevelyan whined again, and each successive time he was spanked, as first his left, then his right cheek became redder and redder, beginning to match his face. 

‘There there,’ Alistair cooed, stroking the Inquisitor’s back with one hand, as the other massaged his bottom. ‘You must admit, a firm hand is what you need. But you’re nearly done. The Commander simply must have his turn, it is quite therapeutic for us all, I think.’ The king placed a kiss on each cheek and then backed out of the way a little to allow Commander Cullen access to Trevelyan’s rosy behind. 

The Inquisitor’s arms hurt from holding the same position, though he barely noticed for the ache in his buttocks. He screwed his eyes shut as he felt Cullen move closer to him, imposing yet loving as he caressed the target that his hand would aim for.

Cullen’s spanks came in quicker succession, but with slightly less force behind them, resulting in a sustained cry from his charge. And then the spanking was over. 

Trevelyan was grateful as Cullen got him to stand up again, still gently rubbing his cheeks, and kissed him on the lips. It was a kiss that belied more tenderness and care than he thought possible, especially under the current circumstances. 

Alistair grasped the Inquisitor’s hand and squeezed firmly as the two other men kissed, before getting a chance of his own to taste the mage’s lips. Trevelyan noted how very different, but equally loving each man’s kisses were. Alistair’s fuller lips cushioned softly against his own, whereas Cullen’s embraced the curve of his mouth in a way that was more pressing, but somehow equally as gentle. Both were enough on their own to cause him to see stars, but together? There might as well have been a supernova going on deep inside Trevelyan’s soul. 

When Alistair finished kissing the bashful mage, he turned to Cullen. ‘I think we should prepare.’ he smirked, stepping closer to the commander, his hips leading the way as he allowed his torso to sway slightly. 

Cullen placed his hands on Alistair’s shoulders as the King placed his on Cullen’s hips, and they leaned in and kissed each other, slowly and passionately as Trevelyan looked on, biting his lower lip. It was truly the most beautiful, erotic sight to behold. He wished to be involved but his presence would surely disturb the perfect rhythm their lips and tongues danced to.

Alistair moved his hands to unlace the Commander’s trousers, enough to let his cock spring free, and then moved to undo his own, all the while remaining lips to lips. When both of their members were free of their clothing, they stopped kissing, and each turned to regard the mage in front of them, whose mouth was now wide open, gaping at the sight before him. 

‘Would you like to make sure we are prepared, Inquisitor? Despite that dazed look on your face, I am sure you are in possession of enough of your faculties to guess at what comes next?’ Alistair asked in a manner that suggested he was merely discussing plans with a royal consort, rather than stood before a naked mage who was hungrily eyeing his and the Commander’s cocks.

Trevelyan did not answer with words; he simply smiled lustfully as he got to his knees between the pair of them and took a shaft in each hand, teasing both heads with his tongue where they met. 

At the groans of approval, and a stroke of the hair from the Commander, the Inquisitor continued, splitting attention equally between them, taking turns to allow his mouth to explore both lengths fully. Cullen and Alistair resumed their kissing above.

The trio continued in this manner for some minutes; no more commands, or sounds except for the pants and moans coming from all three of them. 

When Cullen grasped the Inquisitor’s chin and guided him to his feet, Trevelyan’s stomach jumped with anticipation for what was next. At this point, he needed it like he never had before. 

With a single kiss that was _almost_ chaste, Cullen instructed him to sit up on the table and lie back. 

Once he was situated, the Commander made his way around to the other side of the table, where Trevelyan’s head was. He started to stroke his hair as Alistair stepped between the Inquisitor’s spread knees, and pulled on his thighs to inch him a little closer to the edge of the table.

As Alistair pulled out some oils that he had stowed just for this occasion, and began applying the chilly substance to Trevelyan’s waiting hole, Cullen leaned down to whisper in his ear.

‘Are you ready, Inquisitor?’ he purred. ‘The King and I are going to _fuck_ you from both ends of Ferelden at once…’, he punctuated his statement with a single bite to the shell of Trevelyan’s ear, eliciting a guttural groan. Had he not been preoccupied by the ministrations of his King and Commander, Trevelyan would have laughed about that comment; they really did have him spread across the whole Kingdom for them.

Alistair now had two fingers firmly inside of the Inquisitor’s ass, and as he withdrew them, the brunet shivered at the thought of what would penetrate him next. 

King Alistair pressed the head of his cock against Trevelyan’s rosebud, slowly but firmly plying him open. Trevelyan’s hands balled into fists as he tried to relax his asshole around the intrusion, and a low whimper fell from his lips. 

‘Fuck.’

Alistair smirked. He had managed to get the tip of him inside, and there was still a fair bit to go. He reached out with one hand and laced his fingers through Trevelyan’s, easing the fist open as he did the same to his arse. Trevelyan gripped Alistair’s hand firmly and grunted. 

Cullen, meanwhile, had been languidly stroking the mage’s hair and his own length, as he watched His Majesty penetrate the Inquisitor’s depths. ‘That’s it, relax for the King,’ he cooed.

Before long, Alistair had his full length buried inside Trevelyan’s backside. ‘Good boy,’ he smiled, squeezing Trevelyan’s hand once more before he let go and placed a hand on each of his hips; a steadying position as well as one that would give him greater leverage. ‘You make a beautiful sheath.’ he teased, squeezing the Inquisitor’s sides.

Trevelyan exhaled and bit his lip at both the compliment and the feeling of complete fullness. His cock was standing straight up, a proud soldier waiting for orders. Then Alistair looked to Cullen, and gave him a nod. 

_Maker_ , it felt so good to be surrounded by such welcoming, warm walls. Alistair savoured the feeling of stillness in the tight grip, despite his hips screaming at him to begin a desperate thrusting; he and Cullen were in control here, and he had to exercise restraint, no matter how well he knew the man on his sword could take it. 

Sweat was beading on Trevelyan’s forehead, partially from the effort of welcoming the King’s sceptre, and partially from the sheer heat of the situation.

Commander Cullen placed a broad hand on each side of Trevelyan’s head, and adjusted him so his head hung just over the edge of the table. 

The Inquisitor’s eyes gazed hungrily as Cullen stroked his own cock a few times, before lining his tip up with the mage’s mouth. 

First he simply pressed it to Trevelyan’s lips, who eagerly flickered his tongue out, capturing the bead of precum that had accumulated. Cullen groaned, and pressed half of his length into the waiting mouth suddenly. Trevelyan made a surprised, muffled humming sound as he adjusted to the invasion. Cullen decided not to bury himself any deeper at this moment, and he stroked the man’s face with a sort of gentleness not usually reserved for moments such as this; the Inquisitor was impaled from both ends, after all. 

Slowly, both the King and Commander began to move inside of Trevelyan. Building a steady in-out rhythm as they sawed, the panting and grunts of all three men began to synchronise. 

The sensations were almost overwhelming for the Inquisitor, whose whimpers were the loudest of them all as he felt himself being rearranged on the inside. The pace was beginning to pick up. 

‘So well-behaved now. That’s it- relax, and stroke yourself while His Majesty and I administer your punishment.’ Cullen almost snorted after he finished his sentence- the idea that this was a _punishment_ of all things was absurd. It would likely only encourage the Inquisitor to ‘misbehave’ more in the future; but Cullen would hardly complain about that. He leaned forwards, forcing himself deeper and into Trevelyan’s throat, and reaching out to tease his nipples. This elicited more whimpering, and guttural ejaculations as the air in the Inquisitor’s lungs had to squeeze around the head of Cullen’s cock, buried so deeply now. 

‘Listen to the Commander, and polish your staff like a good mage.’ Alistair grinned wickedly. ‘We’ll take care of everything else, my dear.’ And with that, Alistair began thrusting in earnest, his increased tempo swiftly followed by the Commander. What lovely noises Trevelyan’s throat was making around his cock. 

Trevelyan obeyed and reached for his member, pumping up and down in time with the other men’s thrusts. He was fairly certain that no ecstasy of this magnitude could be found within the Maker’s bosom. And apparently he should know, since he was the so-called _Herald of-_

‘A-a-aaandraste!’ His thoughts, scrambled as they already were, were cut off when Alistair adjusted his position, hitting new depths and causing him to cry out against Cullen. 

The room was filled with a cacophony of groans and lusty whimpers; a melody that sang of the basest, most carnal desires being sated, in the room usually reserved for strategizing against such things. The lovers, each one a mess of sweat and effort and ache, had found the perfect rhythm; staccato and thick and beginning to crescendo.

When Alistair and Cullen both began to thrust more erratically and arhythmically, and Trevelyan’s whimpers had reached fever pitch, it was clear that none of them were far away from sweet, desperate release.

The Inquisitor grasped his cock tightly with his left hand, trying to hold off his impending orgasm; It was taking more self control that magic ever did. A green light began glowing from where he held himself, his internal effort awakening the anchor. 

_Maker, I can’t hold it for much longer…_

Alistair noticed Trevelyan’s predicament, smirking through his own guttural groans.

‘Let go for me now, Inquisitor.’ Alistair purred. 

And he did. His orgasm tore through him like the orb had the veil, magic crackling from his hands as he fought the spasms and the ravenous contracting of his ring around Alistair. His cock erupted, shooting streaks of semen across his own abdomen and dribbling over his fingers.

The King’s legs nearly gave under him as the rhythmic milking motions of the Inquisitor’s arse forced him to unload his own cream deep inside of the trembling mage. 

The Commander followed almost immediately, the rumbling grunts and high pitched whimpers vibrating through Trevelyan’s throat as he rode his orgasm sending Cullen flying over the edge, emptying himself inside of the man’s mouth and pulling out towards the end to coat his swollen, pink lips in his seed.

Finally, they stilled. The three of them were utterly spent.

After a moment, Cullen climbed onto the table beside Trevelyan and lay down, putting his arm around his shoulder. Alistair was still inside of him, catching his breath. 

“There now, did you enjoy that? Did it help you to work out that frustration so eloquent in your letter?” Cullen asked gently, stroking up and down Trevelyan’s left arm in a comforting motion. 

The Inquisitor nodded and hummed breathily the affirmative, eyes still closed. He didn’t trust his voice to work as he continued to attempt to calm his racing heart. 

Cullen smiled, before turning to look at Alistair.

“I think he’s been punished sufficiently, don’t you?” He grinned wider, showing his teeth. 

Alistair smirked in response, eyes heavily lidded. “I think so too.” He gently freed himself from the Inquisitor and joined the pair on the table, settling on Trevelyan’s right. He began to stroke the mage’s hair, which was damp and sticking to his head. 

The three of them lay there, calming down and basking in post-orgasm bliss. 

“Maker’s breath, I love you both.” Came a whisper from Trevelyan’s lips as he turned his head and nuzzled against Cullen’s shoulder sleepily. His hand found Alistair’s free one, which had been resting on his abdomen, and tangled their fingers together. He could ask for no better men to have at his side, on the field, in the bedroom, or indeed, on top of the war table. His heart was full. 

Dazzling smiles from both of them went unseen by Trevelyan, who was making no attempt to fight the temptation of slumber. Both continued to hold and stroke him for some time as he snoozed. 

Cullen glanced at Alistair, honey eyes filled with peace and adoration. They all loved each other, that much was clear. They had known just what to do when Trevelyan’s letter had come through. It had been a challenge to wait for the evening to pass so that they could guarantee privacy. Now that the distracting haze of lust had been lifted, contentment was all that remained. 

Alistair leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Trevelyan’s forehead, and then freed his hand from the man’s grasp to pull Cullen’s face towards him. He kissed him slowly and passionately, a hand teasing through his untidy blond curls. When he pulled away, he sighed. 

“I think we better get him to bed.”

Cullen smiled and nodded in agreement. 

“One moment.” Cullen gently untangled himself from the Inquisitor, fastened his trousers, and hopped off the table, disappearing briefly into Josephine’s room to grab the blanked folded up on her chair. When he returned, he opened the blanket up in his arms, and motioned for Alistair to help. 

The King lifted Trevelyan up off the table, only with a hint of strain, and handed him to Cullen before wrapping the blanket around him enough to ensure modesty. He ensured his own, smiled and opened the door for Cullen. 

Trevelyan was vaguely aware that he was resting in a strong pair of arms, and smiled contentedly. When the three of them left the war room, he spoke.

“My clothes-“ 

“I’ll fetch them in a bit, don’t worry.” Cullen soothed. 

Led by Alistair, Cullen carried the Inquisitor up to his quarters. He deserved a good rest, and tonight he was certain that all three of them would sleep soundly. 

— 


End file.
